Around the Way: Pray4me x Cwolf0615

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by MUSΞ, May 27, 2015.

Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.

    • Deep within the lush hillside and along the curvy one lane road is a traditional English tutor mansion surrounded by acres of English gardens and gray bricked walls. A stable can be seen through the trees that surrounded the perimeter of the home with the neighs of horses being muffled by the leaves.

      The thick wooden gates open for the Mercedes, allowing the occupants to enter the wonderful estate of the St. James. The estate owner, Robert St. James slowly drives the car over the beige gravel while glimpsing at the rear view mirror.

      "Here we are...that was a long drive, wasn't it? I wonder what happened along the highway that attracted all those police," Mr. St. James says.

      He slows the car to a stop in front of the mansion entryway that overlooked the path to the road. Stepping out, Mr. St. James lets out a loud sigh of relief and stretches his arms over his head. A women rushes through the front door wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, a white T-shirt, and her blonde hair tied up. She hugs Mr. St. James and kisses him on the cheek.

      "Hun, please we have a guest!" he jokes. "Where's Ryan? He should be out here. I texted him that we were near."

      "Let me go get him..." Mrs. St. James sighs.

      She hurries back into the house as Mr. St. James went to the back of the car and popped open the trunk for the guest to grab any luggage.

      "You feeling okay after that ride?" he asks the newest guest at the St. James estate.

    Deep within the lush hillside and along the curvy one lane road is a traditional English tutor mansion surrounded by acres of English gardens and gray bricked walls. A stable can be seen through the trees that surrounded the perimeter of the home with the neighs of horses being muffled by the leaves.

    The thick wooden gates open for the Mercedes, allowing the occupants to enter the wonderful estate of the St. James. The estate owner, Robert St. James slowly drives the car over the beige gravel while glimpsing at the rear view mirror.

    "Here we are...that was a long drive, wasn't it? I wonder what happened along the highway that attracted all those police," Mr. St. James says.

    He slows the car to a stop in front of the mansion entryway that overlooked the path to the road. Stepping out, Mr. St. James lets out a loud sigh of relief and stretches his arms over his head. A women rushes through the front door wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, a white T-shirt, and her blonde hair tied up. She hugs Mr. St. James and kisses him on the cheek.

    "Hun, please we have a guest!" he jokes. "Where's Ryan? He should be out here. I texted him that we were near."

    "Let me go get him..." Mrs. St. James sighs.

    She hurries back into the house as Mr. St. James went to the back of the car and popped open the trunk for the guest to grab any luggage.

    "You feeling okay after that ride?" he asks the newest guest at the St. James estate.
    #1 MUSΞ, May 27, 2015
    Last edited by a moderator: Apr 24, 2016
    • Love Love x 1
  1. The car ride had been long, and excruciatingly awkward, at least from Isaac's point of view. Though he was grateful that the St. James were willing to take him into their home, that didn't make him any happier with the situation as a whole. His general attitude during the drive had reflected this, as he kept his head down, his only reaction to Mr. St. James himself being an occasional nod, forced smile, or mumbled "uh huh, yeah, sure" for the sake of politeness. He'd kept his eyes on his phone, and the messages being sent to him by his best friend of six years, Zachary Moros. Though Zach could be a bit of an idiot sometimes, the two boys were close, and he'd been incredibly supportive about the situation - allowing Isaac to text, call, or videochat him for as long as he liked, whether it was noon, or four in the morning. He'd taken advantage of this for the last few hours, distracting himself from the unpleasant car ride, and venting about his current situation.

    "Hey man, we're driving up 2 the place now, I'm gonna have 2 go." He typed quickly, as they drove down the curved lane.
    It was barely thirty seconds before his phone buzzed, alerting him of Zach's response. "Yeh, k, hows it look?"
    "Eh, ok. My place is nicer." He typed back.
    "Heh, no shit? You probably think the Buckingham Palace is shoddy, ur such a conceited asshole."
    Isaac gave a small smile at Zach's reply, the first real one he'd given all day, and rolled his eyes. "Stfu, freak. We're here. Ttyl."
    The phone buzzed once more, the screen lighting up with Zach's reply. "K, see ya. Good luck."

    Isaac held down on the home button, locking his phone, and then slid it into his pocket just as the car came to a stop.
    "Yeah, good luck." He thought to himself. "Hopefully I won't need it."
    He opened the car door, and went to step out, nodding at Mr. St. James.
    "Yeah," He said, stepping from foot to foot as he tried to get the feeling of pins and needles out of his legs. "Real long. Think my legs fell asleep."

    He gave a small wave when Mrs. St. James came running out of the house, and then turned to grab his bags out of the trunk. He grabbed his backpack first - green, the same color as his hoodie - and slung it over his shoulder, before going to grab the rest of his bags - a duffle bag, a briefcase-like suitcase, and two rolling suitcases. He'd put a few boxes of things in the mail for himself, before leaving, also. He hadn't brought everything he owned, of course, but had brought the things he considered most important. After all, he didn't know how long he'd be bunking down here. For all he knew, he might be stuck at this place until he turned eighteen, and he wanted to make sure he had his favorite stuff. It was bad enough he had to leave his home, he wasn't leaving his possessions, too, even if all these bags seemed a bit excessive.

    "Uh, yeah, I'm fine." Isaac forced out, as he struggled to situate the duffle bag and smaller suitcase in his arms in a way that he could still grab the handles of the rolling suitcases. They were bulky and on the heavier side, and he was swaying a bit as he attempted to carry everything without losing his balance; He'd seen people place the smaller bags on top of rolling suitcases before, but he didn't even try that, as when he had attempted it earlier he had only made things worse, and he wasn't one to ask for help when he thought he could figure it on his own. "My legs fell asleep, like I said, but other than that it was good." He paused for a moment, trying to think of something nice to say. Normally this sort of thing came easily to him, but with the current situation it seemed everything 'normal' had become a lot more difficult. "I uh... this is a nice place you have." He said finally. "Your wife seems nice, too. She's a good looking woman." He let out a small groan as soon as the words had left his mouth, silently cursing himself for what he'd just said. "Damn it Isaac, how creepy could you be?"

    "I mean, um... you know what, forget what I just said." He added, forcing a smile which ended up looking more like a nervous grimace. "That... that was weird. I'm sorry, sir, I just... I was trying to be polite... and... and think up a compliment... but it... it didn't come out as planned. I honestly have no clue what I'm doing anymore. All this is new to me."
    #2 Cwolf0615, May 27, 2015
    Last edited: May 27, 2015
  2. Mr. St. James closed the trunk of his car and pressed the lock button on the key, hearing and seeing the blinker of light confirming it. He turned to Isaac, reaching a hand down to help with the luggage, but hesitated.

    "I can understand how hard this must be for you Isaac..." he gave a short smile and a small sigh, slowing bringing his hand back. "Honestly, I have no clue what to do either besides give you a place to stay until you graduate. This too is new to me. And...well...I'm just hoping I'm helping you even a little bit."

    His fingers curled and uncurled as he fought back his fatherly instincts from giving Isaac a reassuring pat on the back. Was it too soon to show anything like that after all that's happened? Mr. St. James rested his hands beside him and looked away to see Mrs. St. James opening the door with Ryan following slowly after.

    Ryan had his eyes glued to his tablet, his finger swiping across the screen as he stood beside his mother. The St. James was a family with long, respected family history and fortune that most dream of. They were the most important in their small town and the top five most important throughout. When seeing the two heads of the family, Mr. and Mrs. St. James, many wouldn't imagine that these two ordinary looking people would be part of a historical family.

    Ryan, however, glowed wealth. Everything about him, his style, physical appearance, demeanor, and way of speech screamed it.

    "I'm sorry I missed your text, father. I came across a few medical journal entries that grabbed all my attention," Ryan looked from the screen and at Isaac. "Is this your guest?"

    "Our guest," Mr. St. James corrected. "This is Isaac. He will be living with us indefinitely."

    "Woo..." Ryan twirled a finger in the air mockingly. "...welcome, Isaac."

    "Ryan, please take Isaac's bags and escort him to the room I had prepared for him. The one just down your room," Mr. St. James said.

    "...he looks like the type that rather do things on his own. We also have help for that," Ryan said.

    "Ryan, go help him. Stop being a little brat," Mrs. St. James hushed to him.

    Rolling his eyes, Ryan approached Isaac and stood right in front of him. He shook his head, flipping his brown hair away from his eyes as a hand reached for the lightest bag.
  3. "It's fine sir, really." Isaac said, with a slight shake of his head in Mr. St. James direction. "I appreciate what you're doing for me. I don't know where I would have gone, otherwise. I don't think there's many people who would be willing to do something like this, especially for so long."

    He turned, watching as Mrs. St. James came out of the house, her son Ryan following behind her. If there was ever someone who played the part of the rich kid, Isaac was certain it was him. The idea of wealth and high social status seemed to reverberate off of him, from the way he dressed, to the way he stood. "Man, if Zach thinks I'm a snob he should see this kid." He thought, though it was more of an observation than a criticism.

    As he continued to talk though, there was just... something about him that rubbed Isaac the wrong way. Maybe it was the mocking tone he took on as he twirled his finger in the air, maybe it was how he initially refused to help him with his bags, or maybe it was the eye roll - but no matter what it was, his initial thoughts on his new housemate certainly weren't positive ones.

    He scowled slightly as Ryan stepped over, tempted to pull his bag away and respond with a mocking remark of his own. Maybe something along the lines of 'woo, nice to meet you douchebag'? But, no, that was crude - the sort of thing Zach would say. Besides, his father would have been less than happy if he spoke to his new hosts in such a way, and he imagined Mr. and Mrs. St. James wouldn't feel much differently. First impressions weren't always right; And even more importantly, he needed this. He couldn't afford to get on the St. James bad side right now, especially not when he'd first got here. He didn't know where he'd go if they weren't willing to have him, and if there was one comforting thing about this entire situation it was that he knew he had someone who would take care of him until he was old enough to legally do so himself.

    "Come on Isaac, be polite. Just smile and be polite. He's not that bad - it's the situation talking. Just smile and be polite."
    And so, with another slight shake of his head, he allowed his scowl to leave his face, plastering a forced smile in it's place.
    "Thanks," He said, shifting the suitcase and allowing Ryan to take it. "I appreciate the help. It took a lot more bags than I expected to pack up my most important stuff."
  4. Ryan grabbed the bag and held it loosely in his hand, the strap of the bag barely settling in his grasp. He turned to face the mansion and exhaled slowly. Without saying a single word, he began to lead Isaac into the home with a quick pace.

    The inside of the mansion was the classical tutor interior and layout. Exposed wooden beams, intricate woodwork, stone walls, and floor to ceiling windows. The layout wasn't the standard American open layout, instead each room had an extravagant doorway that led to another almost pointless room. The stone tiled foyer opened to a grand spiral staircase that swirled up to four stories with a chandelier made of various antlers and horns hanging down the middle.

    Beyond the staircase was an addition to the home that was more of an American style with tutor influences. There, the rooms were open layout that showed off the chef kitchen, the family room, the sun room, and a glass hallway that led to the enclosed pool and greenhouse.

    Ryan walked up the spiral staircase to the third floor and down the left hallway that was windowless. It was full wooden paneling stained a dark cherry wood coloring. At the end of the hall, Ryan opened a door to Isaac's new room.

    He opened the heavy wood door to a room that was the perfect size. The windows overlooked a courtyard and the rolling green hills.

    "The guest room," Ryan walked to the center of the room and dropped the bag carelessly. He walked across the room to open the window. The room was a bit stuffy from being unused in years.

    "Your bathroom is through here with the walk in closet," Ryan opened a door that led into the hotel quality bathroom. "Over there you've noticed the small kitchenette. The refrigerator is most likely stocked with drinks and a few snacks. Beside is the two burner stove top and your microwave. Over here is your all-in-one remote."

    Ryan walked over the full size bed and grabbed a remote from the nightstand. He pointed to the wall across the bed, pressed a button, and a large screen T.V. appeared behind a false wall.

    "This controls everything in this room. From the T.V. to the lights and to the shades on the window," Ryan explained. "Have any questions?"
  5. Isaac gave a small huff of annoyance when Ryan didn't respond, narrowing his eyes slightly and clenching his jaw. "Oh, real friendly you are." He thought, following after his new host. "We're just going to be lovely friends, aren't we?"

    He stumbled at first, the differing weight of the bags messing with his center of gravity a bit. He quickly fell into step with Ryan, however, glancing around the house as they walked through. The home was incredibly different from his own, and reminded him of something you'd see in some old mystery movie - not that he'd ever actually watched any old mystery movies, it just seemed like a fitting setting. He'd admit, there was a sort of charm to it, a coziness that made him understand why a home of such style would be so desirable to so many. Still, though, he preferred his own home. It was a large, very modern looking building, with sleek room designs and lots of windows. The mixture of the light colors, tall ceilings, and large windows had always left him feeling as if he was outside even when he wasn't. "This... will have to do though. At least for now."

    He quickly pushed the idea of his home out of his mind, as he felt a flush of anger over the injustice of his current situation. He was trying to be positive, to dwell on how great it was the St. James were willing to let him stay in his home, rather than how unfair it was his father had been killed. Thoughts such as that made him too upset, and he didn't want to make a bad impression on the family that had took him in.

    He went to set his bags down when they reached his room, snapping his head up when Ryan dropped his bag on the floor. "Hey, careful man!" He huffed, unable to hide his annoyance, though he did try. "There's stuff in here that could break!" He crouched down, and scowled, inspecting the suitcase for a moment before going to pick it up, walk over, and set it neatly down near his other luggage. "Seriously, ever heard of manners?" He added as he did so, though it was grumbled quietly under his breath, and difficult to really make out.

    Straightening back up, he turned towards Ryan, and crossed his arms. "Nah, I think I can figure it out." He said. There was a pause, as he tried to put on a friendly face again, before continuing. "Thanks though."
  6. Ryan placed the remote back on the nightstand. He walked past Isaac to the desk, grabbed a pen and pulled the cap off with his teeth. As he jotted down a few pass-codes on the yellow notepad, he chewed on the cap of the pen slightly. When done, he snapped the pen back into the cap and placed it back on the desk.

    "For our internet," he stated.

    And, as if nothing new happened in his life, Ryan left. He closed the door softly and went back down the hall, going back onto his tablet. Mr. St. James was waiting downstairs at the foyer with an irritated look on his face. It grew more as Ryan took his time walking down the stairs and nearly passed his father.

    "By how you are right now, I can tell you didn't give Isaac a proper welcome," Mr. St. James said.

    "You brought him here. You're his host. Not I," Ryan replied. "I did what you asked. I took him to his room and got him situated."

    There was a small stare off between the two men, each never losing contact. For years, the two men of the family have battled each other over control. Mr. St. James always had the edge of being the true head of the family and wealth, but Ryan had been bolder and bolder with clear intentions on how he wanted things to go. Ryan hated his parents casual appearance and everyday attitude. He hated that the family dynamic had changed from displaying their wealth and power to hiding it so others around could be comfortable. The family use to hold extravagant charity events, inviting the whole town to their estate and donating thousands upon thousands of dollars openly. Now, they make anonymous donations in small bundles of checks. Everything was off than what it use to be.

    "You haven't really told me who he is exactly. All I know is his name, that you know of him, and that he will be here because of an unfortunate situation," Ryan said.

    Mr. St. James sighed, letting his shoulders fall as he looked away from Ryan's stare.

    "I don't want to get into it too much, but he lost his father. His father and I were really good friends and I felt I had to take in his son."

    "I see. He had no family to take him in?"

    "No, he's on his own now...well, not really if I have a say in it," Mr. St. James answered. "Listen, this is a hard time for him so please show some sort of understanding. I'm not saying to be brotherly with him, but help him settle in and get use to living around here until he finds a way."

    Ryan pressed the side button of his tablet to shut it off and walked past his father for the kitchen.

    "If he comes to me, then I will help. I'm not going out my way for him."
  7. As soon as Ryan was out of the room and had closed the door, Isaac slid his phone out of his pocket, and walked away from his bags. Sliding his finger across the screen to unlock it, he fell backwards onto his new bed, and opened back up his conversation with Zach. By now, it was so long he'd had to clear his inbox three times in the last few days.

    "This sucks." He typed the short message, and then hit send, resting his phone on his chest and closing his eyes as he waited for a response. Sometimes it took a while for the first one.

    It was around seven minutes before his phone finally buzzed with Zach's reply. "Well that didn't take long. What, was the toilet seat not made of gold?"

    Isaac scowled slightly, before responding. "I said, this suckssssss"

    "Oh, my bad. Honey, darling, sweety, tell me all about it. Pour your problems out onto me."

    "That's better. I don't think I'm gonna like it here."


    "I dunno, their stupid son is driving me nuts."

    "Dude, you just got there. What'd he do?"

    "I don't know, nothing really. He just rubs me the wrong way."

    "Seem like an ass?"

    "Pretty much."

    "Well, uhhh... k. You're stuck living there, so just, try and give him a second chance or something?"

    "I know, I will, don't get all weird and mushy on me."

    "Not trying to. Seriously though, you've been in a hell of a bad mood. It's understandable, but he might not actually be that bad. Could just be you're grumpy."

    "Yeah, I guess so. I have been a little annoyed lately."

    "A little? You fuckin' punched some guy in the face for nothin"

    "Ok, I've been pissed off at everyone and everything."

    "Exactly. So, just, deal with it. It probably ain't as bad as you think."

    "Alright, alright. Second chance, blah blah blah, don't let your bad attitude cloud your judgement, blah blah blah. Got it. Thanks mom."

    "That's better. You can still complain like hell to me if ya want though."

    "Will keep that in mind. Wish I could just stay at your place."

    "Me too. Even if you are an annoying little shit. You should come hang out sometime. Folks won't mind."

    "Yeah, hopefully we can meet up soon. Well, I should go unpack."

    "K. You do that. Just, actually leave your room after that or something. Don't be a recluse."

    "Okay, I'll try and be sociable. If I flip out on one of them I blame you though. Being polite is hard."

    "Deep breaths dude, deep breaths. See ya."


    Isaac pressed down on the home button, and then slipped his phone back into his pocket, sitting up. He sat silently on his bed for a few moments, and then got to his feet, walking back over to his bags and going to begin unpacking. He started with clothes, figuring he could get to his other stuff later. It was mainly jeans, t-shirts, and hoodies, though he had brought along some nicer clothes, as well. He wasn't really paying attention to what he was doing, but was rather focused on what Zach had said. Had he just been being grumpy? He was probably right. Ryan hadn't really done anything that bad. Sure, he was acting kind of rude, but... maybe he just wasn't good with new people? After all, Isaac couldn't imagine he'd been being all that cheery himself. It'd taken practically everything he had not to snap at the kid - his annoyance was probably noticeable, and off-putting.

    He'd do what his friend had said. He'd give the kid a second chance, and do his best to be friendly and sociable - he didn't want the St. James to dislike him.
  8. The rest of the afternoon went by normally. The stable hands were tending to the horses, the maids were cleaning the lower half on the estate, and the on call chef arrived to prepare dinner for the family. Mrs. St. James was out in the garden with the gardeners to check on her own private vegetable patch while Mr. St. James stayed around the main section of the house on the phone.

    In the courtyard outside of the window of Isaac's new room was Ryan herding a small pack of six pure bred Bloodhounds. Between his lips was a long, silver whistle and in a hand was stuffed fox toy. The Bloodhounds never lost their gaze on the fox toy as Ryan slowly waved it around before tossing it a few yards behind the dogs. Their legs twitched as they resisted chasing after the toy and shredding it into pieces. They were waiting for Ryan to make the order.

    For six minutes the dogs waited for Ryan to give the command. And, when Ryan gave a small shout and a blow of the whistle, all six dogs attacked the fox toy and slaughtered the thing. Lowering his hands, Ryan simply watched the dogs destroy the toy, letting that be their reward.

    There was a faint knock on the door.

    "Isaac, dinner will be ready soon," said Mr. St. James. "Do you want to have a plate brought up to you? Or do you want to get it yourself? You know, it probably would be good to give you the tour of the grounds."

    Mr. St. James placed his phone back into his pocket and waited for an answer. He shook his head at the sound of the dogs.
  9. Isaac spent the rest of the afternoon unpacking his items. He was meticulous in his arrangement, carefully placing every object in the area he thought would most accurately mirror the look of his old room. His posters - some for movies, shows, and bands, while others were simply of artwork he thought looked nice - were plastered across the walls in the exact same line-up they had been at home, and his trinkets and keepsakes had been placed in an equally careful fashion. He'd even pushed the bed so it was placed in the same corner it had been in his home, and had gone so far as to messily throw a pile of clothes near the foot of his dresser, and carve his name on the underside of his new bed - the letter A looking as lopsided as it had when he'd first done it to his own bed at eight. He'd truly done his utmost to make himself feel at as home as possible in the strange new house, and by now the differences between the two bedrooms had been made as minimal as they possible could without going to drastic measures and remodeling the place.

    He was still tweaking things about the room when Mr. St. James came to fetch him, having only stopped for small periods of time to observe Ryan and the dogs. He found the whole affair somewhat interesting, as he'd never seen anyone do something of the sort, though he had to admit it all seemed rather stuffy and old-fashioned, and didn't exactly lift his hopes of him and the boy getting along. The longer he stayed at the estate the more he felt like the St. James. house - and especially the youngest member of the St. James family - was sucked straight out of an old movie.

    Currently standing on his tiptoes as he carefully pushed one of his posters to be lopsided just the right amount, he turned, and stared at the door for a few moments before making a reply. He was tempted to tell the man to have a plate brought up to him, and that he'd have a tour of the grounds later. The idea of staying in the room for the rest of the day, for the rest of the week even, was not just appealing, one could even call it comforting. Zach's words "Don't be a recluse" flashed through his head however, and he decided to do as he had promised and attempt to be sociable.

    "Uh... I can come down and get it myself!" He called, before walking over to the door and going to open it up. "And um... yes. A tour of the grounds would be rather nice, as well... if that would be possible." He forced a smile, reaching up to push his bangs out of his face - his hair having become a mess as he ran around unpacking all his things.
  10. Mr. St. James nodded and led Isaac down the hall, the stairs, and to the open kitchen. It was a pretty basic chef's kitchen, charcoal cabinets, white marble counter tops, restaurant quality appliances, and a giant island that was perfect for preparing meals and desserts. The chef, a young woman who looked like she just graduated from culinary school, was making a healthy dinner of herb crusted salmon, a rice pilaf, and an assortment of vegetables.

    "Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes," she told the two with a smile.

    "That will be fine. It smells great," Mr. St. James replied. He turned to Isaac. "As you can see, the kitchen and family room combo. You're free to come down here any time when you're ready. Mrs. St. James is really into prime time dramas while I'm more involved with sports. So, if you like having people around while watching T.V, don't be shy to come down. You probably won't ever see Ryan here."

    Mr. St. James led Isaac out to the courtyard where Ryan was at. He was still with his bloodhounds, letting them sniff around the courtyard to work on their tracking skills. He walked over to his dad and Ryan.

    "Hmm, I hope you're all settled in," Ryan said to Isaac after a small stare off between Mr. St. James and him. "And, what are you two doing?"

    "I'm giving him a quick tour of the grounds before dinner. Are you going to be joining us for dinner, Ryan?" Mr. St. James asked.

    "I have things to do in town," Ryan's eyes lazily looked away from his father and landed on Isaac. "I hope our home is adequate to your liking, Isaac. Here, let me finish your tour for you and show you the outdoor grounds. I have to store up my dogs anyway."

    Mr. St. James couldn't hide a smile by Ryan's offering. He nodded and left the two boys to return to the house. Ryan watched as his father closed the glass doors, giving him a small wave until the head of the family was out of sight.

    "He's such a fucking joke. Come on," Ryan instructed to Isaac.

    He whistled, calling over his dogs to surround themselves around the two boys and began the walk across the garden and to the dog pens.
  11. Isaac followed as Mr. St. James led the way. He attempted to feign interest in what he was saying, though his acting was unfortunately less than perfect, and it was obvious his mind was elsewhere.

    "Alright, okay, thanks." He mumbled, allowing his gaze to move absentmindedly about the room. "I'll keep that in mind."

    He seemed to come out of his fog when they entered the courtyard, and he stiffened slightly at Ryan's approach - though he quickly forced himself to relax, as he reminded himself that he was going to give the older boy a second chance, and attempt to have a more positive attitude.

    "Ah, yes, it's a very nice home." He responded quickly, before returning his attention back towards Mr.St.James.

    "Okay, thank you, I'll see you soon." He smiled at the man, and then waited until he had left, before going to follow Ryan.

    Hooking his thumbs in his pockets, he glanced at the dogs, and tried his hardest to keep back the scowl that was threatening to edge it's way onto his face.

    "He's... not so bad." He said slowly, with a shake of his head, being careful to keep his voice calm and void of emotion. "It was very kind of him... to let me stay here... and he's been nothing but hospitable so far."
    #12 Cwolf0615, Jul 20, 2015
    Last edited: Aug 17, 2015
  12. "Oh? him? Don't want to put in words what you really think about him?" Ryan questioned as he led them down the white crystal stoned path that led to the open grass field and the vegetable garden off to the side. "I will save you the thought as you're still on your 'humble guest' mode. He is an overly nice, yet annoying man that cares too much about the other person."

    They left of path and walked onto the lush, pillow-like, emerald grass that was perfectly cut. The dogs pranced behind them, barking happily as their tails wagged excitedly.

    "But, let me not talk bad about him as he is your only supporter right now. How lucky you are," Ryan looked down at his phone and sighed. "You have enough to think about, like the death of your father, yes?"

    Ryan and Isaac approached the kennel, a housing of wooden pens with gated doors surrounded by a brick walls. The kennels was a good size, about two acres, with a shed to keep in all the supplies, a small pond for the dogs to play in, and enough space for the dogs to run around in. Ryan unlocked the gate that led inside the kennel and pushed a button on a panel. The doors of the kennel slid open, allowing each of the dogs to walk inside, before they closed again.

    "So, Isaac, do you need anything in town? Would like a break from my overly-friendly father? I have to head there now and I rather have you come along if you need anything than having my dad call me about something," Ryan offered.
  13. "I'm not." Isaac said, somewhat quickly, as Ryan mimicked the slow stilted speech the younger boy had been using just a moment earlier. "I mean, I was, but not for that reason." He was silent for a short moment, and then shook his head. "Oh, nevermind."

    Glancing over, he crossed his arms.
    And then Ryan said it.
    " the death of your father, yes?"

    Isaac was grateful both for the fact that Ryan's eyes were trained on his phone, and that his own head was turned away, because the look of annoyance and anger that crossed his face was immediate, and obvious. He tried to ignore it, and to simply pass it off as himself being overly sensitive. He had been quick to offense as of late; But the tone in Ryan's voice, combined with first impressions and everything else had already been said and done had him feeling as if he was being mocked.

    He remained silent, and manged to return his expression to a somewhat neutral one - though traces of his own disgust were still visible, and his one hand was clenched into a fist, while the other clutched at his arm. To be frank, he assumed this kid should consider himself lucky. Were he anyone else, in any other situation, now would have been about the time he would have hauled off and punched him in the face.

    Watching as the dogs walked into their kennels, he shrugged lightly. "I dunno." He grumbled, in response to Ryan's question. "Maybe. I uh... yeah, sure. Whatever. That would be cool."

    He wasn't particularly fond of the idea of going, well... anywhere, with this kid. But he had promised Zach to try and be social and friendly and all that. Plus, it would be kind of nice to have better look around town.
Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.